


paragon

by SeasOfRhye



Category: Tales of Berseria
Genre: F/M, what if I stopped, yet more angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 02:11:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13284732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeasOfRhye/pseuds/SeasOfRhye
Summary: If he is to become the man that will save this world, then Artorius Collbrande must pass one, final test.—Oneshot. Takes place during Berseria.





	paragon

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys it's time for another round of being Artorius is Suffering-jk  
> not really I mean this man is suffering incarnate lmao  
> Anyway, it's probably best for you to have read past /that/ scene in the Earthpulse ^^ although I suppose it doesn't really matter!
> 
> Also shoutout to dunyazad for holding me at gunpoint to post my stuff...again...ilu

"Look at him."

She holds out the bundle in her arms. From beneath the swaddling blankets, he can see a mass of curly, sun-kissed hair. The child stirs slightly, its chubby arms reaching for him.

"He's..."

"Adorable, right?" She giggles. "And so lively, too! When you left, he wouldn't stop fussing! I guess he really is Papa's little boy."

The sun beats down upon them, illuminating her smile. A single leaf is snatched from a nearby tree and sent swirling through the air. The boy's eyes open—golden, just like hers—following its motion, and he squeals as it comes to rest in the grass.

As if this couldn't get any worse.

It couldn't possibly.  The boy, the sun, the leaf, her  _ smile _ —even the sound of Velvet and Laphicet playing from within the house is tempting him.  _ No. No.  _ He cannot falter. If such an obvious falsehood as this has left him so susceptible, then how will he possibly save the world?

He takes a deep breath. Yes. He will deny this—deny this blatant mockery, this  _ test _ —and turn, leaving this erstwhile thing that no longer has any business lingering in his mind—

"What's his name?"

_ You're weak. _

And it's not even his own voice that mocks him—it's Claudin's, swooping in from the dark recesses of his psyche, a firm hand on his shoulder, leaning in, whispering:

_ Weak. Weak. This is not what I prepared you for _

Celica laughs.

"Oh? Well, I wanted to wait until you got back, but time passed, and..." And for a moment, she is Celica no longer, devoid of the bright eyes and cheery smile that made her. Her arms seem to tighten around the infant, as if he is her only anchor in this world—

_ But this world is— _

He doesn’t care.

“Celica, I’m so sorry. I…” His hand reaches out to graze her cheek.  She gazes up at him, hands still tightly wound around her son— _ their _ son—eyes large and hopeful and so full of love, and—

_ Weak, weak, weak _

It doesn’t matter.  His hands hover just inches away from her face. Yes, this is it—this is what he is meant to protect.  His love, his son, and those two children—they’re right here, _ right here, _ and what’s stopping him from kissing her right now and brushing the hair out of the boy’s face and walking through that door and into their house, back into the world he knows—

_ Ah. _

His hand freezes.

_ Weakling _

That’s right. Of course.

Celica blinks. “Arthur…? Is something wrong?” She smiles slightly. “It’s fine. It’s not your fault, I know…”

“I…”

_ Don’t tell me you actually believe her _

He shakes his head. “Yes, it is.”

And that is all. Right. How could he have forgotten?

“What? Arthur—”

Because, if this is the world he knows…

“Arthur?”

…then he might be able to look at himself in the mirror every morning.

“I need to go, Celica.” The softness (the  _ weakness _ ) has slipped from his voice, leaving only ice. There is nothing wrong with that, surely. That is simply that the man he is now. No—it is the man he was always supposed to be.

_ Right. My name is not _ Arthur

But he will allow himself this one, small, pathetic moment of frailty in saying her name. That is it. That is all. He turns past the patch where the graves should be.

(and their absence almost makes him want to turn around, almost want to stay, but he won’t, he’s more than that now)

“Wait! Arthur!” Her voice rings out behind him, but he hears no footsteps against the ground. “Why are you leaving? Don’t you at least want to know his name?”

He closes his eyes and keeps walking.

“Arthur.  _ Arthur _ _! _  Please!” He can hear the sob in her voice, see the way her hands must be shaking as they cling desperately onto the child he failed to save. “His name is—”

And the earth gives way beneath him.

 

“Well done.”

The first thing he sees when he opens his eyes is Melchior.  The elderly legate stands before him as impassively as ever, stroking his beard as if in thought.

“I will admit, I was…hesitant about your prospects initially.” He says. “It’s not that I necessarily doubted you, but…well, you must understand.”

“…Thank you.”

And he falls silent—because what else is there to say?  He is but one man who has worked to overcome a test, and now he has received approval. Surely, that is all he needs to be satisfied—

(because he lost the right to anything else years ago)

—no.  If he is to be the Shepherd that guides the masses, he cannot stand here idly, like a boy.  

“I do understand. I betrayed the doctrine that Claudin worked so hard to instill within me. I lost sight of our goals, falling prey to human weakness.” He shakes his head. “But you needn’t worry any longer. That shall never happen again.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Melchior pauses. “Of course, it is not that this mission will be an easy one. The realm of human affairs rarely is…” He sighs. “However, if we are to save the world, then sacrifices must be made—and you, Artorius, do seem willing to make them.”

“Of course.”

“Good.” Melchior turns. “Well, now that this trial has been completed, I think it would be best if you became reacquainted with our estate. It  _ has _ been awhile since you were here, after all. I believe you’ll find that things have changed.”

He nods.

“Then I’ll leave you to it. In a few days, our mission will begin in earnest. We must move quickly, if we are to bring salvation to this world.”

“I see. I assure you, I’ll be ready.”

And with a simple hum, Melchior vanishes, leaving him alone.

He waits for a few moments, before moving to the window.  The roofs of Loegres sprawl out before him, ringed by the walls that guard them.  Between the blue sky, ground-level shouts, and the distant chirping of birds, it’s almost possible to believe that this is a world at peace.

…Ah, that’s right.

There is one question he had forgotten to ask.  Something has been lingering in his mind recently, begging for an answer.

“What was his name?”

And he curses himself as he never has before.

What—was all of this done just for him to stand here and ask himself childish questions? Did he not just resolve this matter?

_ Of course. He never had a name and never will, because you— _

—And that’s enough.

This  _ wondering, _ this idle prattling—it is a luxury that a man like him cannot afford. He does not want it any other way, either. After all, he has a role to play, and it’s one that he should have been playing long ago.

And so he closes the blinds and turns away from the window, walking for the door.  There’s nothing left for him here—nothing that will be of use, anyway.

Yes. This man, Artorius Collbrande, exorcist, Shepherd, student of the great Claudin Asgard, will surely save the world. There is no other possibility. He will not allow it. Even if he must throw himself away—by the edge of his own sword, if it’s needed—he will see the Abbey’s plans through.

(Right, right. He can do it—he can still save people, he can still be useful, they’ll all see)

He opens the door and leaves in one brisk motion, leaving naught but a gentle breeze. 

**Author's Note:**

> UHHH SOME SPOILERS FOR MAGILOU'S BACKSTORY BELOW???
> 
>  
> 
> BUT YEAH apparently Melchior tested Magilou with an illusion that she was unable to overcome, and I honestly thought, what's stopping him from having done the same to Arty after he returned to the Abbey? I mean, he had to ensure that the new Shepherd would be able to overcome his "weaknesses"...
> 
> anyway someone help this man...I don't think that Claudin would have seen him as "weak", but haha imagine Arty having confidence in himself sighs


End file.
